


One Step at a Time

by IAmNotSam



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-26 12:10:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3850477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmNotSam/pseuds/IAmNotSam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura Hollis suddenly finds herself in a tricky situation when her dorm friends organised a Sunday hike and she was set up to be the hiking partner of new girl Carmilla Karnstein, whom she has a stupid, stupid crush on. </p><p>Laura was quick to find out that dealing with the gorgeous chick is going to be a lot like butting heads with a bull. Luckily for her, she knows exactly how to handle a bull.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going in Circles

 

There was a tearing sound over my head. “Watch it!” Carmilla exclaimed, yanking me off course just as a heavy branch fell and bounced on the ground, inches from my feet.

I swallowed. Those were the first words Carmilla had spoken to me that wasn’t strictly business. The first words that weren’t along the lines of “You’ll go this way, and I’ll go that way.”

Carmilla put an arm around my waist and propelled me forward. “Let’s see if we can find some sort of trail.” She released her hold.

“Thanks,” I said, raking the hair from my face, blinking away dirt and water. It was a gloomy Sunday afternoon and it didn’t help that rain poured heavily earlier and that we’d lost sight of the group and the trail. Carmilla and I had to run for shelter and stay under an old wood shed for about fifteen minutes. How someone as perfectionist as Lola Perry could possibly forget to check the weather forecast incredibly boggles the mind.

“Christ, I can’t believe we’re lost and that we’ve lost signal and that it had to fucking rain.” The dark-haired girl was looking at the worn out wooden signposts desperately. “All signs just lead to water, water and more water. I’m not fucking thirsty; I just want to get out of here, okay?”

I held up a pacifying hand. “Just try not to worry too much and stop whining, Carmilla. It won’t help us.”

Carmilla angrily shoved her mobile phone back into her pocket. “I wish it were that easy when I’m stuck with you.”

I rolled my eyes but chose to let it slide. Carmilla was really getting on my nerves but, damn, she looked gorgeous even in her hiking outfit.

I don’t even know why my friends planned this Sunday hiking trip and that Carmilla and I were partnered in the first place. Or maybe I do have an idea. Okay, maybe a lot of ideas. It was LaFontaine and Perry’s twisted way of torturing me. They knew I have a stupid little crush on the mysterious badass. They knew Carmilla was an Arctic Ice Queen and the tiny ball of sunshine that was Laura Hollis might just be their best bet in helping loosen the new girl up.  _So chin up, Laura. Girl the hell up. You can do this._  Eyeing the raven-haired girl, I could totally see that dealing with this chick was going to be a lot like butting heads with a bull.

Well, I knew exactly how to handle a bull. First lesson, tame it with gentleness and sweetness and patience.

Putting on a bright smile, I dug the heels of my lug-soled boots into the mud. Carmilla and I were on an upward sloping path, and I could feel the muscles in my legs working hard.

“And I also can’t believe those ginger twins assigned you as my ‘senior hiking partner,’” Carmilla said, making air quotes, and my smile faded right away. “Jesus. You can’t even walk straight, cupcake.”

I pressed my lips together, trying to ignore her snarky comments and cheesy pet names (which didn’t fail to, as much as I was embarrassed to admit it, release butterflies in my tummy), looked around and spotted a long, flat area several yards below us. I pointed. “That route looks pretty decent. Come on, let’s check it out.”

“Aren’t we supposed to head up?” Carmilla asked, grimacing.

“I’m sure there’s another way here.” I hurried down the slope, angling my feet to keep my balance in the mud. “Agh. Crap.”

“Wow, you handle yourself very well, cupcake,” Carmilla commented, watching my clumsy descent.

“Shut up.” God, she was sarcastic. And I couldn’t help but smile inwardly.

“You make 10-month old babies look like gymnasts, cutie.”

_Did she—did she just call me “cutie”?_

I blushed, in spite of myself, but willed my voice to sound annoyed. “Shut up. Or I’m going to leave you.”

Carmilla snorted. “Oh, who are you threatening?” She hopped up on a fallen log and crossed a big mud puddle, using her arms for balance. “Sweetheart, I could survive without a partner,” she added.

“If you hadn’t made a stopover to tend your freaking phone, we wouldn’t be in this crappy situation.”

“I didn’t ask you to wait for me.”

“You know, the very least you could do is say ‘Thank you for your patience, Laura.’” I started climbing a rocky pile of boulders. Fuck’s sake. I just couldn’t deal with this girl sometimes.

As my chin bounced off damp roots and rocks, my feet slipped out behind me. My hands scrabbled wildly along the ground, trying to grab a bush or a branch. I clutched at a rock and held on for dear life. “Ahhhshiiit!” I squeaked. I felt someone grab me. It was Carmilla. Again. Her strong arms hooked me under the shoulders and pulled me to my feet.

“Are you okay, Laura?” she asked, wrapping her arm around my waist to steady me.

“I’m okay. Thanks,” I said in a small voice, blushing again. “Poor decision, obviously.”

Carmilla released me then. “What could be worse than getting lost on a fucking mountain? Getting lost on a fucking mountain with a useless midget.” It was the fourth time she had saved me. She grimaced. “Fuck’s sake. This is unbelievably nightmarish.”

I flashed Carmilla a smile, despite her black mood. “It’s good. It tells me we’re acting like a team.”

Carmilla laughed mirthlessly. “More like acting like a babysitter and a helpless toddler.”

I took a deep breath. Carmilla was determined to put me at arm’s length. She wasn’t unfriendly or hostile. But she wasn’t warm either.

Carmilla reached out and took my hand, helping me off the boulders. “I suppose you’re out of ideas.”

“I’m never out of ideas,” I corrected. “I was going to suggest that we circle back the opposite way. See, I don’t give up easily. Not when there’s something I really want—like reaching the top of this mountain and doing my yoga workout.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes and snorted. “Yoga? Really?”

“That’s right. I might need some intensive relaxation after spending an hour with you and your sarcasm,” I teased lightly.

“That’s if it will only take an hour to get to our destination. We are going in circles, thanks to you.” Carmilla turned away, muttering a curse, and began walking.

I hurried after her. “Can you answer this seriously: Do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you,” Carmilla answered in a neutral tone. “I just . . .”

“What? You just loathe me? Detest me? Dislike me intensely? I’m trying to think of more synonyms but my mental thesaurus is all sapped.”

Carmilla didn’t answer for a long moment. She kicked some mud off her boot and turned the collar of her windbreaker up. “I . . . uhhh . . . I know I came pretty hard on you. I like you fine, cupcake,” she said. “I’m just under a lot of stress right now. And getting lost on a mountain isn’t exactly helping.”

I reddened. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m trying really hard. But I promise to get us to the summit. You just have to trust me and not get mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you, okay? It’s just all these things hassling me. Sometimes I just need space to deal with them.”

“Take your space,” I answered. I moved on, pushing wet branches and vines out of my way.

I reached the edge of a murky swamp about ten feet wide. Too wide to jump. I knelt down and inspected the water, trying to gauge the depth. “I can’t tell if this is just a shallow spillway, or a pond.”

Carmilla knelt down beside me, scowling. “Christ. I knew I should have just stayed back at the dorm and slept all day.”

“Stop whining, okay? I’m trying to think.”

“How could we possibly move on? Let’s just forget about all this and fucking go home, Laura. There’s signal down there. I’m sure we can just leave a text message to one of them.”

“Hang on.” I pulled off a boot. “I’ll wade in and see what I can find out.”

“Laura, don’t. It’s too dangerous.” Carmilla grabbed my arm, and I felt heat jolt through my body. “It could be deep. Or the bottom could be full of suction holes.”

An explosion of familiar voices suddenly drowned out my pounding heart. I looked up across the swamp and spotted Perry’s red braids bouncing across her back. Then I saw the line of hikers after her.

“Hey, guys!” I shouted, waving my arms in the air. “Over here!”

“Laura!” I heard Perry cry. In a flash, she appeared rushing from behind the trees and reached the other end of the swamp. “Oh, my God! We were looking all over for you two!”

“Thank God, we found you!” LaFontaine emerged running next to Perry. “Christ. What happened to you two?”

“A lesbian quickie, obviously!” Kirsch piped up, laughing.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted. “Is there another way, LaF?” I asked, ignoring the Zeta bloke’s comment and the smirk on Carmilla’s pretty face.

LaFontaine frowned. “None, L, sorry! We just have to find a way to cross this—!”

“Okay. Wait a sec.” I spotted a battered tree trunk wedged between two trees several yards away. “I’ve got another idea. Give me a hand with that log, Carmilla.”

“Laura, this is fucking hopeless. Let’s just stop kidding ourselves and climb down,” Carmilla said impatiently. “Let’s just tell them we’ll meet them back at the starting-off point.”

“I told you I don’t approve of quitting. I don’t roll that way. I’m your senior hiking partner and I’m honour-bound to get you to the mountaintop. Now, come on. Help me.” I grabbed one end of the trunk and jiggled it until it loosened.

Carmilla went around the trees and shoved it hard from the other side.

The log came loose.

“Okay!” I said. “You take the back, I’ll take the front.”

Together, we carried the log to the swamp and set it down in the water. I pushed it until it bridged the water.

The log swayed for a moment before it made a  _glub glub_  sound and settled at the bottom.

“Good thinking, cutie,” Carmilla said, now grinning. “We just walk across. Right?”

“After you,” I said, holding out my arm.

Carmilla stepped across the log bridge. “You know, cupcake?” she said with a smile that was all too rare and all too knee-weakening as I crossed the bridge to join her. “I’m beginning to like the way you operate.”

I felt my cheeks go red again.  _Well, shit._  

Worst. Crush. Ever. 

 

 

 


	2. Quit Falling, Cupcake

 

“How are you doing, cupcake?” Carmilla came up behind me and sat down on the big rock next to me. “Looking good, eh?” she teased, her dark brown eyes dancing with humour as she dropped her backpack on the ground.

I let out a chuckle, and wiped my face with the towel I had. It was still slightly damp and dirty from the icky combination of rainwater, mud, and sweat. “You know, this would make a great adventure movie, if only _I_ weren’t starring in it,” I said, and Carmilla snort chuckled at this.

“But I have to be honest,” she said, finishing off her Gatorade, “you make a decent hiking partner. You did great out there, Laura.” She gave me a thumbs up.

With an exhausted smile, I shook my head and snorted, “Come on. You don’t have to kiss my ass now.”

The brunette laughed. “I know I don’t have to. But you just look so tragic.” She chuckled again, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a warming way.

I drew back, captivated by the rare sound of Carmilla’s laugh. “See? You glow when you laugh! You should laugh more often,” I told her. “Take my advice, Carmilla: try not to be too negative most of the time.”

Her forehead crinkled. “Negative?”

“I mean, unless you’re purposely having a conversation in order to critique something, mentioning your observations out loud just sort of makes you seem pointlessly negative and nitpicking.”

Carmilla’s response was only a benign smile and nod which surprised me.

I drew back again with amazement. “What? No violent reaction? No slinging back vicious words? I practically called you a bitch. Where’s the warfreak Carmilla Karnstein?”

“Whether well or half-baked,” she said, “I acknowledge all opinions.”

I blew out a heavy breath, wiping the sweat off my forehead, then grinned at her. “Good. Because I’m too tired for another verbal duel.”

Carmilla bit down her lip as if she wanted to say something but was too shy about it. I just looked at her, expectantly, waiting for her to blurt out something, anything. But when she didn’t open her mouth, I awkwardly turned my gaze back toward the scenic view.

“Hey, cupcake,” she finally spoke at length, sounding sincere and gentle. “Sorry if I seemed to be merely trying to bust the blood vessel on your pretty little forehead.” She reached out to brush some of the remaining mud away from my face with her finger, catching me off guard. “Believe it or not, I had a bit of fun.”

I cocked a brow sideways at the gorgeous girl. “Oh I bet you did,” I said, trying to control the outbreak of butterflies in my tummy. “Watching me suffer is your foul idea of fun, it seems.”

A playful smirk formed on Carmilla’s lips as she tinkered with her empty Gatorade bottle. “It certainly is my cup of tea.” Then she cocked her head toward the group who were intensely and very awkwardly doing yoga. “Not gonna join them?”

I shook my head. “I’d rather not. I’ve done enough stretching from struggling to stay alive down there. I’m sure you can attest to this.”

“True, true.” She looked down smiling, biting down into her bottom lip.

I stood up and pulled my already damp shirt over my head, leaving me in my sports bra.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Carmilla’s lingering gaze on my tummy. When I slightly turned to her, she instantly jerked her gaze away. I smirked to myself. Thanks to Krav Maga and yoga, I actually have a pretty toned stomach.

“You know, I like it when you’re like that,” I let slip. _Smooth, Hollis. Smooth._

Carmilla glanced up, her brow crinkled. “Like what exactly?”

“When you’re, you know,” I tried to explain, but failed miserably, as I plopped back down on the rock next to her. “I don’t know. I really like it. When you’re less you know and more . . . you know?”

Carmilla’s lip twitched before her mouth broke into a bemused smile. “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about, cupcake,” she said. “But thanks, I guess,” she mumbled, and I noticed the pink tinge on her cheeks. _Woah, wait. Did I just make Carmilla Karnstein blush?_

“Kind of hard to find an angle from here on where I don’t sound like a total creep, eh?” I rummaged inside my rucksack for a bottle of water.

“S’fine.” She gave a casual half-shrug. “I do accept compliments every now and then, however vague they are.”

I laughed at that. I uncapped the bottle and daintily took a sip of water. “Lovely view, isn’t it?” I said, changing the topic.

Carmilla nodded and breathed in the moderately cool autumn air. “Stunning, even. I mean, look at those colours . . .”

For some moments, we silently took in the amazing views from our vantage point on top of the mountain. The sun was beginning to set. And the sky was now painted with dreamy yellows, pinks and oranges.

I glanced sideways at Carmilla and cocked an eyebrow. “Worth all the trouble, bickering, and getting lost, right?”

The girl agreed, a soft smile on her face. “Absolutely.”

I watched the raven-haired beauty, fascinated by the enchanting sight. God, she’s so gorgeous. Effortlessly gorgeous. Heart-stoppingly gorgeous. Her cascading hair seemed to be reflecting the sunlight, her eyes sparkled in front of the bright sun, and those lips. Oh god, those perfect lips. Why did I never bother to figure out how to look cool at moments like this? I wondered.

Carmilla had lost the jacket she’d been wearing earlier. Now she had a sinfully erotic black tank top that clung to her upper body in all the right places. She was definitely one of those “thou-cannot-talk-to-me-unless-you-match-my-coolness” sort of people and was just naturally blasé, and it occurred to me that it didn’t matter how uncool I was. She probably wouldn’t be interested in me in that way even if I were to break into her dorm room, wearing a sexy Victoria’s Secret lingerie with a bottle of champagne in my hand.

Luckily that gave me all the more time to stare without getting caught. Unluckily the moment I realised this, she looked over and caught me checking her out.

 _Busted_ , I thought. But instead of getting all flustered, I ventured a tiny smile. Carmilla lifted her eyebrows and turned up the corners of her lips noncommittally. Then biting her bottom lip, she eyed me more intently and I was frozen right then and there. “Gaping idiot” was an impression I didn’t want to make.

“Like the view?” she asked.

“What?” I blinked.

“You seem like you’re enjoying the view, cupcake.”

“What? Uh—” I stammered, then cleared my throat. “Yeah, it’s uh, super pretty. I love sunsets.” I blushed furiously. _Crap. Crap, crap, crap._

“Uh-huh.” She nodded her head, but a knowing smirk came to her lips. “Are you okay? You look kinda dopey.”

“Dopey?” I ducked my head and gave a nervous chuckle. “No, I’m fine,” I answered breathlessly. And I definitely wasn’t dopey, I thought. In fact, I was pretty smart. I’d figured out that Carmilla was just one of those people who put up walls. Now all I had to do was figure out how to tear them down.

I reached into my rucksack, pulled out a pack of chocolate chip cookies and tore it open. “Cookies?” I offered to the brunette.

She fished out a handful. “Thanks.”

We were interrupted by the loud squeals and laughter of Perry and LaFontaine who were making silly poses with some oddly shaped bushes nearby.

“What’s up with you three?” Carmilla queried, eyeing the two redheads with slight curiosity. “I mean, you and the ginger dorks. The three of you seem to be real close . . .”

“Yeah, well, we happen to have the same weird interests and we get along really well.”

Carmilla popped a cookie into her mouth. “What were you three doing in LaFontaine’s room anyway?”

“Oh you mean last night?” I said, taking small bites of my cookie. “We binge watch _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ and  _Glee_  together. _Glee_ just wrapped up its final season so . . .”

“ _Glee_?” Her nose scrunched up.

“Why? You don’t like  _Glee_?”

“I don’t watch it.”

“I thought so. You seem like the anti-musical type.”

“Not so much that. I’m just not particularly a fan of the revolving door of relationships going on there.” The raven-haired girl’s lip curled up in distaste.

“So Carmilla Karnstein’s an advocate for monogamy, eh?” I asked, between bites.

Carmilla looked at me, her expression serious. “Why? Don’t you think it’s just appropriate?” I saw the sudden twitch of Carmilla’s lips, the hint of pain in her eyes, which made me sense that perhaps this was a sore subject for her.

“I do, I do.” I nodded. “I actually believe in one true love.”

“Oookay.” She cracked a laugh. “Let’s not go there.”

“Let me blow your mind and tell you that I’ve never cheated on anyone. Ever.”

“Why? How many boyfriends have you had?” She raised a mocking brow.

I gulped, feeling the beads of sweat pop out of my forehead. “Just one. Just one _girl_ friend,” I answered, blushing, and carefully waited for her reaction.

Carmilla’s mouth opened in a silent “Oh.”

“I’ve never even cheated in school. Ever,” I went on, and let out a breath that I didn’t realise I was holding in. Carmilla didn’t seem to be freaked out by my revelation. This was a good sign.

“Is that right?” Carmilla smirked, and I saw an unusual glint in her eyes that I had never seen before.

“Well, I was a very obedient student,” I replied, grinning sheepishly. “I didn’t really like breaking rules.”

Her brows quirked up. “And now?”

“Let’s just say I’ve transformed a bit when I entered Silas U, thanks to you.”

Carmilla’s dark brown eyes locked with mine before she tilted her head to the side and snorted, “Me? We’ve barely even talked, cutie.”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “But there’s just something about you that makes me want to challenge myself and go out of my comfort zone, you know.”

There was a red colour intensifying on her cheeks. “Really.”

I chuckled embarrassingly to myself. “Now I really sound like a creep.”

Carmilla bit her lip, smiling. “Well, yeah. Just a little bit.”

I offered the pack of chocolate chip cookies again and Carmilla took out another handful. “So you hate stuff like this?” I asked. “The outdoor activities, I mean.”

The brunette smirked. “Let me blow your mind and tell you that I seriously do hiking and rock-climbing.”

“You do?”

“Yep. Took first place at a climbing match some years ago. I was just too lazy to step in and volunteer when the ginger dorks planned the whole trip. Figured you’ve got something to show off but—”

I held up a hand, cutting her off. “Oookay. Let’s stop there before this little chat turns sour,” I interrupted. “But, wow. That’s too cool. You’re like a legit climber.”

She shoved a couple of cookie bits into her mouth. “Sort of, yes,” she replied. “Have you done any climbing before?”

“Well . . . I’m the girl to beat on the playground jungle gym,” I replied, sheepishly raking my hand over the top of my head.

Carmilla laughed loudly, obviously not falling for it.

“Okay, I lied. I never played on the jungle gym,” I admitted. “In fact, I wasn’t an outdoorsy type of person. Actually, I’m not any sort of person but just a tiny nerd who stayed in her room and read books and watched _Dr. Who_. Which was odd because my dad’s totally the athletic type. He runs a Krav Maga gym.”

“Yeah, that’s funny weird. I bet your dad’s the animated, enthusiastic type.”

“He could be incredibly annoying, yes. Sometimes he’ll just randomly summon me to the living room to do a few striking techniques,” I said with matching silly hand gestures, and Carmilla laughed, choking out through a huge bite of cookie.

“Well, I grew up in a family of adventurers so being outdoorsy was the norm,” Carmilla shared after she sobered. “My grandpa’s actually in Africa right now. My mum’s all over the world. My brother’s practically a nomad. When I was younger, we go on camping and hiking trips.”

I scooted closer to her, my interest in the girl multiplying a hundredfold by the minute. “I’d love to hear more about your adventures.”

Carmilla and I talked quietly for quite a while. Her colourful descriptions of the mountains she had scaled were vivid and detailed, making me feel as if I was there with her, and I found myself wondering how many times, and with how many other people, she’d shared these stories. As I listened to her, the appreciation I felt added to my growing sense of affection for Carmilla. Though I knew I was treading on a very dangerous ground, I was somehow unable to control myself.

We were interrupted by Perry who was already shouting, summoning all of us to regroup and start the descent as it’s already about to get really dark.

Carmilla turned to me again. “So, what do you say we move this little chat to the dorm? I have a six-pack in the fridge and a bottle of vodka. And I just discovered the rooftop’s really pretty at night.” She held out her hand.

“Sure, why not.” I took it, and hoped I wasn’t blushing as red as I had imagined.

Carmilla stood up, tugging me up with her. “Buckle up, creampuff,” she put on her jacket and zipped it up, “we still have a long way down to go.”

“Oh, who are you threatening?” I said, borrowing her smug words.

I reached behind my head to fix my ponytail and instantly caught her gaze traveling downward to my bare stomach again. I felt my whole body quiver from the intense way she was feasting on the sight. The sight of me.

Carmilla’s eyes, now with an odd glint in them, went back up to meet mine. “I’m just saying,” she said with a ridiculously sexy smirk, “you should quit falling, cupcake.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. _Well, double shit._ It’s too late for that now. Because standing in front of the gorgeous raven-haired girl, I knew I was already falling.

Hard and fast.

 

 

 


	3. Something Like Admiration

 

Carmilla shook her head as her laughter subsided. We had been laughing nonstop for about ten minutes and my stomach was hurting already and I’ve got a feeling that Perry’s going to appear at the rooftop door anytime soon, ready to deliver a sermon.

"Are we going to stop sounding like idiots now?" Carmilla asked. All traces of a smirk had disappeared, and there was something new behind her gaze. Something closely resembling . . . attraction?

I quashed those thoughts as soon as they popped in my head.  _Forget it, Laura,_ I chided myself _._   _There’s no way in hell or Hogwarts that Carmilla Karnstein would be into you._

"I know I am, but I'm not sure if you're capable," I said, snatching the bottle of vodka from her, and she grinned. I couldn't help gazing at her lips.  _Don't look at her_ _, Laura,_  I commanded myself. Why do her lips have to be facing mine?

I looked down and silently sipped from the vodka bottle, blushing as red as tomatoes, hoping that Carmilla wouldn’t see how I was melting inside.

"Laura?"

I glanced up. _Crap._  Why couldn't I control my knee-jerk reactions? Once I was looking into her hypnotic dark brown eyes, I couldn't seem to get myself to look away.

"I have to say," she said in that deep, chill-inducing voice. "You have really pretty eyes."

I froze, letting her words sink in.  _You have really pretty eyes_. Well that sounded like a line, hadn't it? She was smiling kind of flirtatiously. And her eyes seemed to be sparkling a tad too much. But that might have been a reflection of the few lights on the rooftop. Or that might have just been the alcohol's doing.

When I didn't answer, Carmilla drew back slightly. "Aren't you going to say something back?" she said with feigned indignation. "We're girls, c’mon. We're supposed to give each other compliments."

I arched one eyebrow and sized her up quickly. "Hm. I don't see anything worth complimenting. Sorry."

"Ah, yeah?" she said with another pulse-altering grin and a lift of her eyebrow. "Not one thing?"

"Okay. Well, there’s a couple of little things."

"And those are?"

"Well, the first one is you have an incredible . . .  _really_  incredible way of insulting people. I think that's a real talent."

Carmilla gave me a sarcastic smile. "Very funny, cutie. What's the other one?"

"You have a rare gift of making someone hate you so quickly. Usually you have to know a person better first."

For a moment, she was only staring at me, her mouth open as if she couldn't find a snappy comeback. As if she were totally, completely thrown. "You are evil, Laura Hollis," she finally blurted.

I can only flash her a wide, teasing grin.

Carmilla suddenly took out her phone and started calling somebody. "Oh, hi, Perry!” she said into the phone, in a slightly high, very un-Carmilla voice. “Yes. I just want to ask if we have a Dwarf Tossing competition here in the dorm? 'Cos if we do, I highly recommend this midget sitting here right next to me. And I feel like throwing somebody . . . Oh, we don’t? Well, that’s a shame. Thanks, anyway. Bye." 

When the dark-haired girl turned back to me, I gave her a severe look. "That wasn't funny."

Carmilla nodded, smiling mischievously as she pocketed her phone. "Yes, it was. It was so fucking funny."

I clenched my jaw, stifling a smile. Sometimes I just want to get annoyed with this gorgeous girl, but I couldn’t. If I’m being completely honest, Carmilla Karnstein can literally just run away with anything. 

"You, Miss Karnstein, are just plain rude," I blurted out anyway.

"Again, Miss Hollis, I am not rude," she said with defiance. "You’re just sensitive."

"Okay. Well then, explain this. Since we've met I've tried to be nice, but every time I see you, you seem angry with me. You’re just incredibly bad-tempered and rude. I just want to know why."

"Why?" Carmilla parroted.

"Yeah," I said, my voice steady. "Why."

"Because," she said, sounding like a fifth-grader.

I studied her face closely. "Because why?"

"It's none of your business."

"Really?"

She nodded and I let her answer settle into the silence.

"Okay. Whatever," I finally said, sighing my frustration out.

Carmilla handed the vodka to me again. "Just don't ask too many questions and we'll be all right, cutie." She gave me a wink which I found so damn cute and made me feel defenceless again.

We took turns in sipping at the bottle in companionable silence until our eyes met and held. I realised I was holding my breath as a new surge of arousal shot from my stomach to my groin. _Oh God, I can't be this close to her. Don't look at her mouth. Or her jaw. Or her neck._

Carmilla smiled benignly, her dark brown eyes crinkling. Long fingers curled gently around my bare leg. She slid her hand over and above my calf, poking at a bulge of muscle.

"Wow, I'm impressed, creampuff." She poked again. "You have semi-athletic legs."

My heart raced and I hoped fervently that the dark-haired girl wouldn't see the pulse beating in my throat.  _This is fucking nuts._   _How can she not see what's happening to me? Must be the lighting up here._

I was becoming desperate. Slowly and nonchalantly, I hoped, I pulled away from her and sat back against the low wall behind us.

"I’ve been doing Krav Maga since I was little," I managed to say calmly. "And like I said, I practice yoga from time to time." 

She drew back, surprised. "No shit."

"It’s true. Just when I have spare time."

She snorted disbelievingly. "No fucking way."

"Why not?"

"Um. Because of the many times I’ve seen you pathetically lose your balance, Little Miss Twinkletoes? There’s no way in hell you can last holding those weird yoga poses longer than two seconds, cupcake."

"You’re being rude again."

I willed my voice to remain steady, but now I found it impossible to relax. The low wall wasn't very comfortable, anyway. That, combined with sexual tension and hours of hiking and bickering, had made my neck and shoulders ache. I leant forward again, grimacing, and moved my neck from side to side, then rolled my shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Carmilla asked, worry replaced mockery in her eyes and voice.

"I guess I overdid the mingling and wandering today. I'm a bit sore."

"Here," the raven-haired girl said, handing me the vodka bottle again. "Just drink the pain away. You'll be too numb to feel anything." And then she . . . smiled at me again. Not one of those measly little "I'm only being polite" kind of smile, but a real honest-to-God, knock-you-in-the-gut smile. It spread across her face, illuminating her features with a radiant glow. It electrified her dark brown eyes.

After a big gulp of vodka, I blurted, "That's it? I thought you were going to offer a massage or something."

Carmilla gave a roll of her eyes. "Oh, don't be such a baby." Then she took the bottle from me, lifted it to her pretty mouth, and took a long swig. One corner of her mouth turned up as she gazed at me over the bottle.

I watched her, fascinated and frustrated at the same time. Gosh, she was really gorgeous and really surrounded by freaking well-built walls. This girl could certainly mess with my head, but I'd be willing to take all the aspirins it would take. 

I eyed Carmilla with interest, a mirroring grin on my own face. "Tell me honestly, Carmilla Karnstein, are you enjoying life here in the dorm?"

"It has its good points."

"I hear the neighbours are terrific."

"I've only met one," she said.

"And?"

"She has a tendency to ask loaded questions."

I grinned, and tried to control myself from blushing furiously. I loved her sense of play.

"But to answer your question," she went on, "yep, I do like it here. I like the fact that it takes only a few seconds to get anywhere. Like, if I wanted to do my laundry, I'd just go a couple of floors down. If I needed some nagging, I’d just knock on Perry’s door. If I run out of booze, I'd just walk across and pop by the Zeta frat house. There's a handful of entertaining things to do at the basement and here on the rooftop, too."

"Right. And you can always swing by mine if you’re on the warpath, right?"

She laughed. “Now that you’ve suggested that. Hmm . . .”

We went quiet for some moments. I noticed the tiny smile plastered on Carmilla’s face. That same smile I’ve been seeing her wearing quite often today.

“What’s that look on your face?” I finally asked.

Carmilla answered in a cool tone, “What’s what?”

“That smile. What are you thinking of?”

She looked at me, held my gaze. “It’s just funny. You do have balls to continue being around me, don’t you, cupcake?”

“Why? What’s wrong with you?”

“Well, I don’t know, maybe because there’s a ton of bad press about me. That I’m a straight up bitch. And that I’m ‘incredibly bad-tempered’ and ‘rude,’” she said, making air quotes.

“I try not to judge people on hearsay and first impressions,” I said, realising even as I said it that I sounded a bit self-righteous. So I added, with a smile, “And I guess maybe I’ve always had a thing for strong personalities.”

 _Or bad girls_ , I admitted silently. For whatever reason, it was true. I’d always been so blessed with nastiness all my life, people who were from that slightly wicked, wrong kind of paradise.

Carmilla gave me that sexy smirk of hers with squinted eyes. “Is that right?”

I nodded, still smiling. “Um-hmm.”

Carmilla gazed at me from above her lashes for a while, smiling, then shook her head. "You are one of a kind, Laura Hollis. Always ready to believe the best in anyone." Then her smile disappeared, and a serious look took over her face. "But you shouldn't be so trusting. It's a stinking world full of jerks hanging about. People who will destroy you. People who will hurt you."

“I’m not scared of them,” I told her bluntly.

Carmilla stared at me for a bit, with something like admiration. Then she shook her head again, smiling. “One of a kind, indeed,” I heard her mutter before taking a swig off the bottle.

 _Wow. This girl_ , I thought, watching her with awe. What happened to that obnoxious, cold-hearted girl? I wondered. And who was this gentle, sweet, open woman who'd taken her place?

My mystified stare must have made Carmilla uneasy, because suddenly she declared, "I need to be going."

I sat up straight, surprised and a little upset. "How come?"

"I have things to do."

That was what she said. What her expression telegraphed was  _None of your damn business_.

I groped for something else to talk about so she wouldn't bolt. "Wait. I heard you’re from the IR department as well and really well versed with politics and international relations, in general."

"Uh-huh. And so?"

"I’ve to start drafting an academic paper for my East Asian Studies course. It’s about the prospects for formalized trilateral cooperation of Japan-Korea-China. And I don’t know how and where to start."

"I’m sorry, but why the hell are you torturing yourself, cupcake?"

"Torturing?"

"You clearly aren’t motivated and completely clueless about writing on this topic. Or not into your chosen track at all. Why bother?"

Well, I had asked for her opinion, hadn’t I? Problem was, it wasn’t the sort of opinion I was expecting. Yet in some weird way, her brash and blunt answer actually made sense.

"What’s your major, Laura? And what do you want to be, seriously?"

Well, I'd made some headway. Carmilla was still seated, and she had asked me a couple of questions about myself.

"Well, I'm taking up Social Policy and Politics. So I might end up in the diplomatic service or something."

"Diplomatic service?"

"And work at an embassy, I guess."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Just an observation."

"What?" I probed.

"I can't see you confined to a desk all day working on whatever shit. I mean, you might be boring and tightly contained, but I don’t know . . . I think there’s a reckless side of you . . ."

In a way, I had to agree. "Very insightful. My future job could be boring as hell, yes. Too boring for me."

"Then why don't you do something else?"

"I'm in the process of looking. I guess you could say I just haven't found my niche yet."

"You didn't know what you want to be when you grow up?"

"Well, I watched a lot of  _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_  when I was younger and thought that would be a super cool career. But turns out, vampires don’t actually exist. Also, I remember wanting to become a journalist. My dad thinks it suits me best. Sometimes when he's watching the news or ESPN, I would stand in front of the television and playfully lip-sync whatever the reporters are saying. Now that I think of it," I drummed my fingers on my chin, "I wonder why I didn't pursue it."

Carmilla laughed. "That's what I thought so, too. You’ll fit in perfectly, cupcake. Given that you have the most important tool which is your brain. You’re headstrong and nosey and an annoying rambler. I can totally see it, you know. Laura Hollis, cutest on-the-scene correspondent. You with your microphone, tracking down some notorious drug lord in your high heels, egging your cameraman to follow you into a dark warehouse to get a scoop."

I laughed at that, and blushed some more. Gosh, this girl next to me was simply awesome and an effective sweet-talker when she wants to be. I could imagine spending many nights like this with Carmilla.

"I actually drew a five-year plan before,” I told her. “Totally forgot about it. But now that you've mentioned it, I might try looking into it again and maybe add a few more things or make some alterations."

"Take my advice, Laura,” she said, borrowing my words, “Just do what makes you happy, put a lot of passion into it, and you'll be fine."

"Well, I’m feeling pretty happy right now. I'm enjoying spending time with you."

Suddenly Carmilla got to her feet and ran her hand over the back of her black leggings. "Gotta bounce,” she declared. “See you at uni tomorrow." She hurriedly made for the exit. I nearly mowed down a group of plant pots in rush to follow her down into the building. By the time I reached our floor, Carmilla was jamming her key into her door knob.

"Hey, slow down, Carmilla. What'd I say?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you ditching me this early?"

"I need to do stuff, that's all."

"Carmilla, Olympic sprinters don't move that fast. What's wrong?"

Carmilla opened the door to her room then finally looked at me. "You are very charming, Laura Hollis. But I've got things to do." Biting her lower lip, she took a long glance at my face before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on my cheek. “Goodnight.”

I stood there staring as the door closed in front of me, slowly turned around and leant against it on weak knees. I was still heady and flushing and the butterflies in my stomach were going wild from the lingering feel of her soft lips on my skin.  _Carmilla Karnstein just kissed me. She just freaking kissed me._

After taking a few heavy calming breaths, I started down the hallway with a firm decision in my head.

However long it would take, Carmilla Karnstein was definitely a puzzle I wanted to solve.

One step at a time.

 

 

 


	4. Girls and Migraines

 

I felt a throbbing pain in my forehead most likely caused by the dodgy alcohol shots LaFontaine had concocted, and I instantly rubbed the space between my eyebrows.  _This is nuts._  This had been a bad idea. It was a Wednesday night, we’ve got classes tomorrow, and here we were getting wasted.  _Has everyone gone mad?_

I looked around me. Betty’s dorm room on the first floor was alcohol nirvana. It was like a party girl’s den. How she fit everything in this tiny space was beyond me. There’s a mini-disco ball in one corner. Posters and pictures of booze and booze-fueled wild nights covered her walls. There was a dresser-turned-mini bar with all sorts of alcohol—from beer to tequila. Shot glasses and lime wedges everywhere. Her school books thrown into a pile with German gossip tabloids and  _Cosmopolitan_. Her drawer was open from overwhelming lingerie. No wonder she took bartending as part-time work. This was her life.

Getting a little annoyed by the loud debate going on amongst three Zeta guys behind me, I looked around the room for Carmilla and realised that she had moved to sit on the windowsill on her own, looking out at the night sky above with a blank expression on her face and clutching a bottle of water between her hands. I guessed that she must have had a bit too much to drink as well and was trying to sober up. 

I tore my gaze away from the gorgeous girl and bit the inside of my cheek. After our post-hiking rooftop rendezvous more than a week ago, things between me and Carmilla have gone from weird to weirder to downright mind-fucking in a span of ten days. Or at least, from my point of view. We barely see each other and when we do, she only greets me with a nod or an odd smile and then off she goes. The only chance I was able to properly interact with her is during this one class that we share twice a week and it’s an hour and a half-long German language course where, as fate would have it, she’d been assigned as my class activity partner. Lately, I see her either infuriated at someone on her mobile phone or hanging out with Kirsch and the Zeta squad at the quad or in their frat house which I also found rather odd. She quickly became their “Queen Bro”. Can’t question that, though. Carmilla can have a way with basically anyone when she makes even just a tiny bit of effort.

I glanced over at Carmilla again and she saw me looking.

 _Make a move, Hollis_ , I urged myself when she caught my eye. I left the three plastered lads to their silly argument about what was the best football team on earth and went over to sit with Carmilla.

“You look like you’re having a dead good time,” I said with a smirk, shifting on the windowsill to face her. I noticed how gorgeous she was again. Her hair was swept up into some kind of makeshift messy bun, with a few strands of dark hair curling around framing her flawless face.

Carmilla let out a hollow little laugh. Her face had fairly a dormant expression on it as if she were in a daze, except for when I had walked over her expression had awakened and her dark brown eyes seemed to radiate with a bit of warmth.

“You okay?” I tilted my head, an easy smile etched onto my lips.

“Yep,” she replied, her lips ever so slightly curling up at one corner. And with that one smile, Carmilla Karnstein had easily set free the ever-present butterflies in my stomach once again.

“Well, I’m not,” I told her. “I mean, what the hell was that vile green liquid LaFontaine was forcing down our throats?”

That elicited a soft laugh from her, but she didn’t reply. I felt a bit lighter now that I had broken the ice. I sat there, wracking my brains for a proper topic. But for the moment I just chose to shut my mouth and let my eyes wander around the room.

Good thing it was a little dim in Betty’s room as I didn’t want to see the bloodshot eyes of my inebriated friends. The rest of the group were obviously drunk and beyond normal except for the slightly sensible ones including me and Carmilla. Everybody else was just slurring about random things to one another and not making any sense. Another good thing was half of the invited people had already left including Perry and LaFontaine who kept on teasing by shooting me and Carmilla meaningful looks and making heart shapes with their hands. I was also relieved that Betty’s best friend-slash-Head Summer Society chick Danny had to go early as she kept subtly flirting with me, taking my time and attention away from Carmilla.

“How scenic,” I commented, shaking my head mournfully.

Carmilla’s eyes traveled around the huddled bottles of liquor and she grimaced. “Seems like we just got a one-way ticket to Hangover Over Land,” she said, eliciting a laugh from me.

As Carmilla turned her attention back to the star-crowded night sky, I allowed my mind to float back to the group discussion we had earlier.

 _LaFontaine started pouring shots for everybody, and with trepidation I eyed the shot glasses now brimming with some deadly-looking Absinthe-based mixture. “Speaking of . . .” the ginger began, “what are your types? I mean, do you guys have, like, a specific type?”_  

_“Oooh, yes!” Kirsch beamed, straightening up, and instantly downing his shot. “I love this topic.” Then he looked up at Danny. “Let’s start with you, Summer Psycho. Do you have a type?” he asked the tall redhead._

_“I’m into cute and cuddly people,” Danny answered, blushing a little._

_Kirsch grinned. “Nice, nice.” Then he looked over at Natalie. “And you, Nat? What sort of men do you like?”_

_“I like guys who are super fun and weird. Just like me,” the perky Asian girl answered._

_Then the tall guy turned to me. “What about you, Little Nerd Hottie?”_

_“I think I like the walking wounded,” I replied, surprised that I actually have an answer ready. I glanced sideways at Carmilla to see her reaction, but the girl seemed unperturbed._

_“Oooh,” LaFontaine said, smirking. “I think you won’t have a problem looking for one here, L. Personally I think everyone is fucked up in some way.” The ginger looked pointedly at Carmilla and I threw my friend a mild death glare prompting the redhead to turn to the raven-haired girl with a poker face. “And you, Karnstein? What exactly are you looking for here?”_

_Carmilla straightened up. “Well,” she said, “on the whole I prefer life’s losers. But I’m not looking for anything here. I’d rather stay single.”_

_I looked down and bit the inside of my cheek._ Crap. Crap, crap, crap. Crap. _Carmilla just made anything that can happen between me and her virtually impossible, blatantly pointing out that she doesn’t intend to be with anyone anytime soon._ Crap, crap, crap. _The remaining tinge of hope in me had evaporated._

_Betty drew back, her eyes wide. “What are you talking about, Carmilla? We’re in Austria. Having the time of our lives,” she argued. “It’s just right to let go of all our inhibitions, you know what I mean? It’s an excuse to go wild.” The boys hooted in agreement._

_Carmilla was quick to counter-attack. “Just because you’re in Austria and about to have the time of your life doesn’t mean you have to throw all sense and your underwear out of the fucking window. I am no slut and I intend to stay this way. Thank you very much,” she said, then added, “Plus, there’s a lot of factors that are gonna play into it, you know what I mean?”_

_“Like what, Queen Bro?” Kirsch asked._

_“Like,” Carmilla gestured around vaguely, “like there’s the distance thing—I mean, what’s gonna happen after a year or two. After a few years or, even worse, a semester, you both are bound to be doomed. It’s like having a fucking expiration date. And I don’t want that.”_

_Perry chimed in, carefully sipping from her shot glass, “Yeah, I’m with you, Carmilla. It’s just hard to allow yourself to get attached to a person that you’re not really sure of or what if it comes to the point where you’re like, ‘This is not gonna work out anymore’ and you want different things out of life. That’s just tragic.”_

_“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying,” Carmilla agreed, knocking back a shot. “Also, how is a relationship gonna work out when you can’t even invest a hundred percent of the most important ingredient—which is trust—because you are never sure of what’s actually happening when you’re not around. When you’re constantly faced with the demons: What if they find somebody else? What if they get bored waiting? What if they’re cheating? That’s impossible to deal with. It will never work for me. So why bother starting one, yeah?”_

Listening to Carmilla talk about love bothered me a lot. She sounded so disgusted, so jaded, so sick of it. And I can only imagine how much pain she had understandably gone through for her to talk about love in such a negative way.

I gazed at the raven-haired girl beside me, feeling that there was something more behind those words. And I was willing to find out about whatever that was even if I have to bend over backwards just to tear down these walls Carmilla had been meticulously building.

“I think it works,” I suddenly blurted out, surprising even myself, making Carmilla jerk her head to face me.

“What?”

“I think if, mutually, both of you really want to make it work, it’ll work,” I went on. “That’s why there’s this thing we call ‘compromise’. And I don’t think you can seriously say for sure that you aren’t going to fall for someone here. I mean, you never know, Carmilla. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll find yourself accidentally in love. Can you really fight against your feelings? Can you deny what your heart tells you? I don’t think so. Then again, that’s just my two cents’ worth.”

Carmilla only stared at me, without blinking or moving a muscle. 

“Bottomline is I think it works,” I concluded, now with a little smile.

“And I think you’ve had one too many” was Carmilla’s reply, her eyes dancing with humour.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But I still think it could work.”

She rolled her eyes and let out a loud sigh. “You are so naïve, cupcake. Your view on love and relationships is skewed by watching too much Disney flicks. Well, here’s the ugly truth, princess: Contrary to Andalasia’s widespread belief, not one relationship is perfect and not everyone gets their  _happily ever after_.”

My brow quirked up mockingly. “How’d you know about Andalasia?”

“That’s not the point.”

“And your view on love and relationships is skewed because you haven’t met the right person yet. So I’m suggesting you open your doors and eyes wide. I’m sure there’s someone perfect for you around the corner. Around this corner, maybe?” I wiggled my brows, indicating myself.

“You must be joking.”

“All I’m saying is you deserve someone who is amazing. Someone who has really pretty eyes and impressive semi-athletic legs due to yoga and Krav Maga, stands about 5’2 . . . who’s awkward and headstrong and an annoying rambler . . . who comes from Canada—Vancouver, to be specific . . . and—”

“Someone who’s demented, you mean,” she interrupted, her lips twitching precariously from struggling not to burst out laughing _._

“I’m just sayin’ you should give me this one night.” I shrugged with nonchalance.

Finally Carmilla let out a laugh. “My, you have a perplexing yet tasty sense of humour, Laura Hollis. Especially with liquid courage.”

“Okay. I’m not going to argue some more with you because I feel sick,” I told her with an unserious glower, gathering myself. Then I slid off the windowsill to stand on unstable knees, my hands against my temples. I was getting nauseous and was afraid I might lose balance and fall out the window if I stayed perched on the windowsill. “My head is spinning. Don’t make it any worse, Carmilla.”

Smirking, Carmilla slid off the windowsill as well. “You’re the one who came up to me, cutie. You were totally looking for a headache.”

I let out a grunt. “Girls and migraines. They come together like pen and paper.”

She sidled a little closer to me, leaning one hip ever so nonchalantly against the windowsill. “That sounded like a loaded statement. Care to share?”

My eyebrows shot up not in puzzlement but in skepticism and I stared at the girl for a moment. “And why would I care to do that?”

“Come on, cutie,” the raven-haired girl egged on quietly. “I would love to hear about your lady-loving experiences even though they might be akin to that of a newborn baby’s.”

Scowling, I asked, “Was that insult really necessary?”

She grinned, her gaze intense. “Please?”

“Fine.” was what I said because, really, how could you resist those seduction eyes of hers? “Er, I, uh—” I paused, looking down and scratching the tip of my nose, seeking for a confirmation to continue. Carmilla nodded her head. She was waiting.

I cleared my throat, and then went on, “I sort of knew I was gay since I was eleven. It started with a pathetic school crush on my classmate. Her name was Taylor and she was the school’s biggest badass who happened to be the class president . . .”

Carmilla just nodded in response, letting me continue, “Anyway, she just led me on, making me believe that she liked me back so nothing really happened between us.  But from then on I had been finding girls increasingly attractive. I freaked out. And tried to hide it for years . . .”

“And then?” Carmilla urged me to go on, resting her elbow on the windowsill and focused her attention on me.

“And then when I was sixteen, this gorgeous new girl, Paige, came to my high school being super cool and smart and badass and all, and we just hit it off. She was my very first girlfriend and everything was coming up roses ‘til she became the student council president—”

“Laura Hollis, you have a thing for women in power, huh?” Carmilla lifted her eyebrows teasingly.

I chuckled as I unconsciously toyed with a string of my cotton shorts. “What can I say?” I smirked. “I like a girl on top.”

Her lips crimped in amusement. “What went wrong then?”

“She became the student council president, her head got so big, she became more paranoid . . . and then one day she just told me that she didn’t want people to say nasty things behind her back and that she had a great reputation to maintain that she didn’t want to be sullied by underlings so she fucking dumped me. Just like that. Got rid of me like I didn’t matter at all, like  _we_  didn’t matter at all.”

Carmilla’s lips curved down. “Wow. That’s just . . .”

“I know. What a heartless coward, right?” I shook my head whilst recalling the bygone disappointment. “I always fall for the wrong people,” I murmured, tracing the line of wood grain on the windowsill as if to trace my thought with the same fingertip. “It’s kind of tragic. But true.”

The dark-haired girl straightened up. “See, the thing is, Laura . . . it’s nice people like you who always finish last and get walked over.”

“I’m okay with that. I’m not the competitive type.”

“Yes, but this is a dangerous and harsh world, cupcake. Life doesn’t offer people like you such good terms.” She offered a sad smile.

I returned the sad smile to the dark-haired girl and bit down on my lip. 

“Well, I don’t really expect much,” I replied at length.

“That’s the thing. Maybe you should start expecting more, creampuff,” she told me like she had known me all her life. “Sometimes it’s okay to be selfish, you know.  _You_  should be more selfish.”

I drew imaginary circles on the wood with my fingertip, deep in thought despite feeling a bit of grogginess. “Selfish like how?”

“For instance, you should look for someone who will fucking blow your mind and rock your world and go to the ends of the earth for you. You should not settle for anything less than what you deserve.”

“In other words, you?” I raised a teasing eyebrow.

Carmilla snort-laughed. “No, but seriously, sunshine. Why settle for crusts when you can have the whole fucking pizza pie?”

I blinked as I straightened, and smiled sheepishly at her. “Well,” I spread my hands over the smooth surface of the windowsill and added quietly. “I actually like pizza crusts.”

“Have it your way, then,” she said, hoisting herself up onto the windowsill again. “But all I’m saying is that . . . you’re a beautiful girl, Laura. Inside out. You’re not some underling. You’re awesome. You deserve to be pampered and worshipped and respected.”

I opened my mouth only to close it again, and I was certain I was blushing so hard.  _Woah. Where did that come from?_

I noticed Carmilla duck her head and bite down into her lower lip to probably hide the faint flush rising in her face.

I folded my arms on my chest and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, who are you and what did you do to Carmilla Karnstein?” I asked.

“I  _am_  Carmilla Karnstein,” she replied, one corner of her mouth lifting in a half-smile. “I just softened a little.”

“More like a lot,” I said, smirking. “That was really sweet—what you said. I am a little—”

“Okay, Jesus, stop,” she interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “You’re turning gushy, cupcake.”

“Hey, Carmilla! Carmsexy! Hey!” Kirsch called, laughing like a maniac, his noise making my head hurt even more. “Hey, Queen Bro!” He stood up and reeled toward the raven-haired girl, tripping over something along the way. “It’s spinny in here, spinny and neon green and—Holy shit!—Is there an earthquake?” He stretched out his arms as if trying to balance himself.

Carmilla looked over at the rowdy guy, but when she absorbed Kirsch’s state, her face became a mixture of amusement and displeasure and concern. I tried to hide a smile behind my hand.

“Kirsch. Calm down. You’re fucking drunk,” the raven-haired girl told him in a serious voice.

“I like your hair, Queen Bro!” Kirsch gushed, lifting himself up onto the windowsill to settle on the space between me and Carmilla. We had to stick out our arms behind the super tall lad to support him in case he loses his balance. The last thing we’d all want to happen was Kirsch falling out the window and landing right into the bushes below. Our dorm manager, Miss Strolz, treats her geraniums as if those were her children and I’m sure if Kirsch were in his right state of mind, he didn’t want to mess. Or he’ll have to face Miss Strolz’s wrath and her massive garden shears.

Kirsch ran his hand through Carmilla’s dark locks and stuck his tongue out when he got an eyeroll in return. “Has your hair always been green?”

“Are you okay, Kirsch?” I managed to ask, moving to put a gentle hand on his shoulder. It was an uncomfortable struggle to keep the contents of my stomach firmly in the right direction even as I fought to maintain my footing.

“I might be glowing!” Kirsch answered animatedly, snickering like an idiot. “This love thing is fucking awesome, Queen Bro! My insides feel like they’re filling up in the best fucking way possible! It’s like gummy bears and bubbles and the glow of a lamp in a dark room! Am I glowing, ladies?”

“No, you’re not glowing; you’re creeping us out,” Betty answered dryly from her sprawled position on her bed, waving him away.

Kirsch snickered. “I know!” He nodded and nodded and oh, he couldn’t stop nodding until his nods became languid. Carmilla reached out and cupped his chin, studying his half-asleep bloodshot eyes.

“Okay, that’s it.” The raven-haired girl suddenly stood up and seized Kirsch by the hand into a vaguely upright position in front of her. “You are going back to your frat house. You are not a quiet drunk, beefcake. It’s getting on my nerves, dammit.” Kirsch responded with nonstop lethargic nodding.

For some reason, the two looked more like brother-sister sweet but still the green-eyed monster in me was making an appearance. It was quite obvious that Carmilla had a soft spot for the Zeta guy. So Kirsch might be in love with Carmilla. She might be the source of the gummy bears and bubbles and the glow of a lamp in a dark room that Kirsch had gushed about. They might have a casual thing going on. And even though I heard it with my own ears that Carmilla swore on staying single here, I still couldn’t help myself from feeling jealous.

Kirsch, who was still giggling like a lunatic, staggered back—good thing, Carmilla was still holding onto him.

“Hey, guys, we’re gonna bounce. We got first period classes later,” a slightly sober JP told us, speaking for him, Natalie, and another Zeta bro who was slightly hammered.

“Can you take Kirsch with you?” Carmilla asked the guy, concern in her tone. “This poor puppy needs to go to bed. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

JP nodded. “Sure, Queen Bro.” Together, the three of them manhandled the zombie-like tall guy toward the door.

As I watched the retreating Zeta lad, I felt a spinning sensation again. I hated feeling nauseous. For a while I was being preoccupied with the unholy rumbling in my stomach and the building disorientation also made it increasingly impossible to think straight.

“Oh, God.” Groaning, I clutched at my head with my hand. Crap, my head hurt like a bitch. It felt like my brain was hammering against my skull, demanding to be let out. I breathed through my nose, hoping it will recede, but it got worse instead.

“Laura?” Carmilla’s tone now sounded worried. “Hey, cupcake, are you okay?”

I shuddered violently. “I’m . . . I’mma throw up . . .” I rasped out before managing to brace myself against the windowsill and retch violently out the open window. Not in one neat, theatrical disgorgement, no, but instead in a series of bad hics and heaves, each one accompanied by bursts of foul, awful-smelling chunky wetness.

“Shit,” I heard Carmilla mutter as she held me steady. My body convulsed and my back arched as I vomited again. I coughed and took breaths.

“Breathe, Laura,” Carmilla softly told me, gently rubbing my back. “Come on, you’ll be alright.”

I leant out to puke out of the window again.

“Throw up some more if you need to, Laura. Don’t resist it, yes that’s it, the sooner you expel the rest of the alcohol in your stomach, the less time you will feel like shit,” Carmilla continued to soothe me as I helplessly threw up. “Careful now, cupcake, don’t lean over too much. You might fall into the bushes.”

“God, this is awful,” I whined at the back of my throat when Carmilla ran a soothing hand down my back. “You give great back rubs, by the way.”

“Are we seriously gonna talk about that now?” Carmilla groaned and when I used a great deal of effort to raise my head, I saw the smile on Carmilla’s face.

“Seriously, though,” I said, dropping my head down again. “Best back rubs ever.”

Carmilla handed me her bottle of water. I rinsed my mouth out with water then wiped it with the back of my hand. “What a fucking traitor—that drink,” I moaned softly, sliding down the wall. I sat down on the floor, curling up my legs to my chest. The muscles in my abdomen painfully protested the throwing up; my head still felt like it was going to explode any second now. “Shit,” I whined softly. “I’m going to kill LaFontaine later.”

Good thing, my head stopped spinning and the heaving ceased.

“Finished for now?” Carmilla towered over me with raised brows. Betty stood beside her, also looking down at me with obvious concern despite her inebriated state.

“Yeah, think so,” I weakly replied handing back the now-empty bottle of water to Carmilla. “What the what just happened? I was fine one minute and then suddenly the whole world was spinning. Hell, I swear I’m never going to touch that stuff again, ever.”

“C’mon, Little L, let me put you to bed.” Betty shakily pulled me up to my feet. “You are so drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” I stated with mock indignation, pulling my hands from Betty’s. The world immediately began to sway again.

“Whoa, hold on, everything is still spinning.” I grabbed and held onto Betty to steady myself. “Okay. I think I might be a little drunk.”

With a knowing smirk, Betty put her arm around my shoulders. “C’mere, let’s get you up to your room—”

“Wait, Betty,” Carmilla called, reaching for Betty’s shoulder. “I’ll take her upstairs. She’s from my floor. And you don’t look so stable yourself.”

“Oookay.” Betty drew back with a giggle, her eyes twinkling in an odd way. “Suit yourself, then.” She gave me a meaningful wink and a two thumbs up to which I answered with a roll of my eyes.

Carmilla then moved around to stabilise me. “C’mon, cupcake. Just hold onto me.” With her arms hooked underneath mine as support, she started to lead me towards the door.

I was giggling for no apparent reason as we stumbled down the hallway in the direction of the stairs. I stopped short when we arrived at the foot of the stairs.

I turned around to face Carmilla. “Okay. You can let me go now, thank you.”

Carmilla arched an amused brow, still not letting go of her hold of me. “You couldn’t walk in a straight line, but you think you can make it up three flights of stairs?”

“I just don’t want to hassle you any more than I already have,” I slurred huskily, my eyes droopy.

“Don’t worry, I can manage to lead your tiny ass up a few flights of stairs,” she explained before beginning our trek up the staircase. “But you know,” she said, the carpeted floorboards squeaking with every slow, heavy step. “I’m not sure you could do the same.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means I’m stronger than you,” she grunted. “And that you’re useless.” I started to hear her breath labour as we turned the corner for the next flight.

I snorted. “Shut up. I’ve got semi-athletic legs. You said so yourself. I could totally carry you across town and up these fucking stairs; in fact, I can even do it running.”

Carmilla smirked teasingly and muttered under her breath, “Right. In your dreams, midget.”

I let my eyes fall shut as Carmilla steered me up the steps and mumbled, “Are we there yet?” I wrapped my arms around her waist, steadying myself, as we successfully reached another landing.

“Almost.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?” I asked the huffing raven-haired girl, lazily opening one eye.

“Yep?” Carmilla grunted as she struggled to keep me in a vertical position.

“I’m just curious about you and Kirsch. Are you two, like, friends or, like,  _friendly_  friends?”

“It’s none of your business, Laura.” Carmilla clasped another stabilising arm around me as she pushed me upward onto another step.

“Do you not like hanging out with me anymore?”

“What are you even talking about, cupcake?”

“It’s like you don’t want to be around me anymore and it makes me sad. Because I really miss you.”

“You’re drunk, cutie. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I shook my head. “No. It’s just that—” I stopped moving suddenly when I felt my stomach go aggro again. Carmilla stepped inward to keep me from falling, wrapping me into a one-armed hug. I rested my head against the taller girl’s shoulder as we ascended together. “Oh crap, Carmilla. I still feel sick.”

“We’re almost there,” Carmilla grunted as she led me, one wobbly step after another.

“Okay,” I groaned like a zombie.

“Just stop talking.”

I nodded like a puppet. “Okay.”

When we made it to the third floor, I stopped moving again and turned to face her. “We should—” I pantomimed drinking “—more water.”

“Right. Let’s go to the kitchen and hydrate.” Carmilla wrapped her arm around me again, but cautiously, and guided me through the rest of the walk to the nearby kitchen. When we reached the third floor kitchen, Carmilla pulled two water bottles from the fridge.

Carmilla groaned and rolled her shoulders a bit whilst I leant my forehead against the wall just next to the doorway with a dull thud. “Oh crap, I need to sit down.”

I turned around and sat down on the floor, tilting my head back against the hard wall.

“Here.” Carmilla offered me one of the bottles and then plopped down beside me, panting. “Drink up.”

“Who owns those?” I asked, refusing to accept the bottle.

She waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter. Just take it.”

“Not gonna happen.” I clutched one side of my throbbing head and grimaced at the water bottle. “I hate being drunk because it gives me guts to break rules and I’m really tempted. It’s horrible. I feel so bad.”

Carmilla snorted a chuckle. “It’s okay. Jeez, it’s only water, cupcake. I’ll replace them later, don’t worry.”

“I still feel a bit woozy,” I mumbled incoherently.

Carmilla’s warm hand touched my back again, and I relaxed. “Trust me,” she whispered. “Just don’t look down. Just sit there and let your stomach settle.”

“I’m okay,” I said, and I regretted it as soon as I said it because this was glorious. The contact, the sensation—this was glorious. “Do you think we’re gonna make it to the fourth floor alive?”

Carmilla made a non-committal noise under her breath. “Uh-huh,” she said, her voice still gentle. Her hand shifted from my eyes to my forehead. “Keep your eyes closed.” Her fingers stroked over my hair, over my cheek, rubbing at the nape of my neck. “Don’t puke on me, alright?”

I choked on a laugh. “Not going to throw up.” But my stomach was rolling again, a sour taste burning in the back of my throat. I turned my head, took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when my stomach turned over.

Carmilla rubbed the back of my neck, massaging at the tense muscles there. “Feel better?” She shifted against me, and then she pressed the open water bottle into my hand. “Drink a little water, don’t chug it, just take a couple of sips. Don’t be stubborn now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Obediently, I brought the bottle to my mouth and drank slowly.

Carmilla took a sip off her bottle, too. Then she pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned, “I am seriously never taking shots from that Bio dork again. Fuck. What did that ginge think we were, guinea pigs?”

“Tell me about it,” I agreed, and we both laughed quietly, equally tired and just lightheaded.

Something caught my attention behind me. The wooden moulding of the kitchen doorway. Sweet memories and unhappy thoughts instantly assailed me. Something pricked in my chest and silent tears fell from my eyes as I stared at it.

Carmilla noticed right away. She followed my gaze then looked back at me worriedly. She drew back slightly and gazed at me, her eyes softly questioning. “Laura?”

“I just, uh . . .” I tried to shake it off, “I just remembered something. Sorry.”

“What is it?” She placed a gentle hand on my knee. 

“The growth charts in our kitchen back home.” I ran my fingers along the woodwork, tears still spilling out of my eyes. “My mom . . . she used to mark my progress. She and Dad would be so proud and happy if I grew half an inch each month. She’d give me stuffed toys and bake me cookies. There’d also be a mark for every birthday, every milestone, until—”

I cut myself off, the silence extending long and empty in the room.

“Until what?” Carmilla asked carefully, softly.

“Until she died in a plane crash. Then those kinds of things stopped.” I drew in a breath. “Some things stopped that day, but a lot followed too.” I tore my gaze away from the moulding and wiped the tears on my cheeks with the back of my hand. To lighten up the mood again, I then forced a smile which for sure appeared tight.

And ever my lady knight in shining armour that she was, Carmilla’s arm went around my shoulders and pressed me closer to her in a hug. I slipped my own arm around her waist, my fingers curling into her sweater.

Carmilla gazed down at me, a soft look on her face, as she cupped one side of my face with her free hand, her thumb rubbing gently against my cheek. “How old were you when she died?”

I sniffled. “Eight.”

“That must have been—”

“Yeah, it was.” I felt tears stinging my eyelids again and before I let them spill, I disentangled myself from Carmilla and pushed myself up from the floor. “I know Natalie has tomato juice stocked in the cabinets here somewhere. Let me—”

But Carmilla grabbed me by the shoulders, making me stay. “Just sit down and relax, cupcake,” she said, and I dutifully just sat there. “Let me take care of everything, okay?”

I smiled, despite my tears, inordinately pleased. “This . . . this is all very new to me—being pampered by anyone other than my dad, I mean.”

Carmilla stood up and made her way toward the wall-mounted cabinets. “Then you better get used to it when you’re around me,” she replied, and I looked away, trying to hide my dopey smile. I still needed to get a hang of this new version of Carmilla.

Carmilla filled a couple of glasses with tomato juice, added some ice cubes from the freezer then walked over to where I sat then handed me one of the glasses.

I pretended to examine the contents of my glass. “This drink isn’t spiked, is it?”

“Look, under no circumstances am I trying to seduce you.”

“Well, it’s too late for that. Your eyes did one hell of a job on that an hour ago.”

Laughing, Carmilla plopped down next to me again. “You’re really something, Laura. I thought I would hate everything about Silas U but you make staying here a little less unbearable.” She took out a pocket size pack of Tic-Tac Spearmint from the pocket of her hoodie sweater and popped a couple of mints into her mouth.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said with a soft smile. “I like spending time with you, too, Carm.”

As she sipped her drink, I noticed her cheeks turned slightly red again and I guessed it was because of the nickname. “As much as I hate to admit it, it’s been a real blast getting to know you and having you as a friend, cupcake.” She let out a yawn.

I stared at her for a moment, then suddenly grabbed at my chest as if I’d been stabbed. “Ouch.”

“What?”

“I’m not sure I want to be friends.”

“Why not?” she asked sleepily, offering me the tiny pack of Tic-Tacs.

I took out a piece. “Because most likely I’d find myself wanting more than that.”

She said nothing. I watched her, unable to read her expression. Finally, I shrugged and popped the mint candy into my mouth.

“I don’t think you want to be friends with me, either,” I went on, chewing the mint. “It wouldn’t be clever, since there’s no doubt you’d end up falling for me, too.”

Carmilla arched an amused brow. “Ah, yeah?”

I nodded, grinning. “I think it’s a curse. I hate being so irresistibly adorable.”

She let out a snort. “Adorkable, you mean,” she said, rattling her Tic-Tac pack. “It seems like you’ve got everything figured out, eh?”

I hooked an arm around hers and allowed my head to rest on her shoulder. “Not really. Only the part where we fall madly in love.”

Again, Carmilla said nothing but only smiled in amusement.

Both of us drank our juices, slowly sobering, and stared at the doorway sleepily, contemplating the long journey upstairs to our rooms, neither willing to move. Carmilla let out another tired yawn. I, then, yawned as well.

A few hours later, I woke to the noise of the street-roving advertising van. The windows were still dark with dawn. We were still in the kitchen. Carmilla lay curled on her side next to me, her hoodie sweater off and bunched beneath her head like a sad pillow. Our knees touched.

I moved my hand over her beautiful face and gently brushed away a loose piece of dark hair. I couldn’t help but revel in the sight. That rare moment. She looked so peaceful and vulnerable for the time being. A complete one eighty of what she was most of the time when she had the chance to hoist up her defences and put on her many masks.

A small smile graced my face, as I studied the raven-haired beauty’s features. Her eyelids were closed, her lips partly opened as she breathed in and out; a serene look in her face as she slept. I sat there in silence and watched her flawless face. She was really so freaking beautiful. I couldn’t help but stare, feeling a tad bit creepy, yet I couldn’t seem to look away.

My whole left arm had gone numb and I didn’t have the heart to move, well aware that any sudden movement would wake her up and I didn’t want that. I loved this. I loved that the day didn’t end with Carmilla running away from me. I just savoured the moment that she chose to  _stay_.

A moment later, I sighed and slowly closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift off into a peaceful sleep once again.

 

 


	5. Fantasies Are Harmless

 

 _Business. Keep your mind on business, Hollis,_  I thought, as I stood with Carmilla by one of the cafeteria outdoor tables that Thursday noon. Carmilla had made it clear she wasn’t interested in dating anyone here.

Yeah, well someone needed to get that message through to my body. Because it sure as hell was thinking I still got a chance.

I pulled a sheaf of papers from my bag and spread them over the wood surface of the table. “I was up all morning to draft our skit for—”

“You didn’t go back to sleep?” Carmilla asked, interrupting me.

“I couldn’t. I had to throw up a couple more times and, you know, I’m still hung over. How long does it usually take for it to subside?”

Carmilla scooped up the last bit of her pudding before replying, “Give it twenty-four hours max.”

I pressed a thumb against a throbbing temple. “Oh, crap.”

She reached out, gently tucking a vagrant lock of hair behind my ear. “How’s your head, cupcake?” she asked, studying me.

“It has tamed a bit,” I replied. “For now, at least. I took Tylenol.”

“I left cranberry juice in the kitchen fridge. I taped a post-it with your name on it. Did you see it?”

“You . . . you did?” I had to blink and put a hand to my chest, because this girl in front of me was making my heart do some pretty crazy things. “Um, not yet. But I will cleanse myself with it when I get back to the dorm.”

“It’ll help speed up your recovery. Helps replace some of the electrolytes you’ve lost.”

“Okay, got it. Thank you, Carm,” I said, smiling my most appreciative smile. “And thanks for looking after me earlier. I’m sorry that you ended up sleeping on the floor.”

“S’okay,” she said with a snort. “Trust me, princess, I’ve been through worse.”

“Rough sleeper, huh?”

“I did a few backpacking trips where I ended up sleeping in the worst nightmarish places possible. One time in Antigua, I slept on a wooden floor that was so rotten that I thought it would fall apart if I shifted just a tiny bit on the mat. The hostel room had wires coming out – I thought I might get electrocuted if I did not pay attention. Or even if I did,” Carmilla shared, and I laughed. “So what’ve you got?” She leant in expectantly.

“Oh, right. I, uh . . . So here’s what I have so far,” I pressed on, pointing to the first drawing. “I’m no Picasso so ignore the stick figures.”

Carmilla leant forward further, her nice and good-smelling dark hair swooping past her shoulders. “I take it I’m the grumpy face with the wavy line hair?”

“Hey, I put you in a pair of leather pants. And gave you long legs.” Long, long legs, nowhere near as sexy as the ones a few feet away.

The raven-haired girl paused, studying the drawings—the sketch I made of her and me, beaming in front of a pathetically-drawn Ferris wheel. “I like this,” she simply stated.

“You do?” I said, sounding as surprised as I actually felt.

“What, you think I’m going to fight you at every turn?” Carmilla raised a brow, her dark brown eyes twinkling with amusement.

I grinned a little, pleased with her uncharacteristic positive response. “Thought it might be a pastime of yours.”

Narrowing her eyes at the paper, she bit her lip. “I’m just a little intrigued by the setting. You like Ferris wheels, cutie?”

I gave a little lopsided sheepish grin. “Erm, actually, no. It’s one of my biggest fears. I, uh . . . I’ve actually never been on one.”

“You’re terrified of Ferris wheels?” Carmilla said with a little chuckle, half-amused and half-surprised.

My face grew crimson with embarrassment, and I played nervously with a lock of my hair. “I know it sounds stupid. It’s not an issue of heights, it’s just that they go around too high and they just don’t seem safe. It’s one of those things you don’t have control over, you know, like hot air balloons and airplanes. What if you get stuck at the top for a long time or what if the wheel comes off? That’s a long way down.”

“Well, that’s refreshing to hear from someone like Laura Hollis.”

“I know. It’s an irrational phobia,” I said. “Now, cue sarcastic remarks from you.” I braced myself for the tirade of insults from the dark-haired girl.

But Carmilla shook her head, smiling. “Don’t be ridiculous, cupcake, fears develop for a reason. I’m not one to judge,” she said. “You’re alright.” She punctuated her words with a knee-weakening wink.

That freaking wink and that freaking smile that curled her lips drove everything else out of my mind. When I found myself gazing longer than necessary at her lips, I quickly lowered my eyes back the sheaf of papers on the table. “So are you sure this is okay? The dialogue’s not too cheesy?”

“Well, I like it,” she said. “The whole idea is really neat. And at least through this simple skit, you get to ride an imaginary Ferris wheel to feed that curiosity of yours.” She gave me an “A-ok” sign with another one of her rare knock-you-in-the gut smiles.

“How’d you know I’m curious?”

“You’re Laura fucking Hollis, sweetheart. You’re always curious.”

I smiled, self-satisfied. “Well, thanks. Glad you finally said something good about . . . well, something.”

Carmilla let out a little laugh. “That sounded like an insult, but you’re welcome, buttercup.” Her attention went to my smiling lips, and I could swear a long, heated second passed before she looked away and cleared her throat. “So, ah, we’re doing this convo for our class tomorrow?”

“Yep. I promise you, we’re gonna kick some butt and impress that crabby Professor Cochrane,” I told her with another grin, pretending I didn’t notice that brief moment of awkwardness.

“Okay. I guess I’ll just leave everything to you, then,” she finally said. “Anyway, how’s your paper going?”

I took a large notebook out of my bag and flipped through it, revealing blank pages. “Zero percent progress, as you can see.”

Carmilla shook her head and tut-tutted in disappointment. “You know, you can ask for my help anytime. But I’m telling you, cupcake, I really find it ridiculous. Do you have any plans of telling your dad about shifting?”

I drew back, blinking. “Shifting? Who gave you that idea? I don’t plan to—”

“Cut the crap, Laura,” Carmilla cut me off with a knowing smirk. “It’s inevitable.”

I plopped down heavily on the bench, inhaled a deep breath then let it out quickly. “I have attempted to ring my dad a few times,” I said at length, looking down at the fallen crunchy maple leaves near my white ballet flats, “I’ve been meaning to tell him about, you know, my love for sleuthing and journalism—but then I feel stupid.”

“Stupid?”

“You know,” I gestured around vaguely, “it’s like one of those announcements a little girl might say to her imaginary friends at a tea party. ‘I’m going to be a princess’ or something.”

The raven-haired girl laughed at this.

“See? That’s the thing about life goals, Carmilla,” I went on, “if you talk about them too much and then change your mind, you just look foolish. And I don’t want to do that, to be a punch line.”

Carmilla crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “You seriously don’t know what to do with your life, do you?”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair that I had arranged in a half-up do. “I told you, I’m in the process of figuring it out. You could say I’m still standing at the crossroads. It’s just that it’s tough to follow our hearts without our heads getting in the way most of the fucking time.”

Carmilla sat down on the bench next to me, and crossed her legs. “Well, I said it to you before and I’ll say it again, just go after what makes you happy, go hard with it, and everything will just fall into place eventually.”

Then Carmilla talked very briefly and very vaguely about how happy travelling and experiencing different cultures made her. She made that sort of life appear so easy, but I’m learning from her that things look easy when they’re fun or you’re good at it or you just have a goal to succeed. Where do I find that in my own life?

“As a matter of fact, there is no set blueprint or correct way to go about achieving anything, cupcake. You can think of that as fucking terrifying or you can embrace it and find thrill in the fact that your way or your choices may be risky or frowned upon—it may be completely out of your comfort zone, but it could still pan out a complete success,” Carmilla said wisely. “Just remember that simple cliché: If you do not go after what you want, you will never have it.”

I stared at the raven-haired girl, smiling in awe and appreciation. “Thank you. I seriously needed that boost of motivation. I want to write that down on a post-it and read it every day like a bible.”

Carmilla smirked. “I’m just sayin’ that it’s okay to go off-script, Laura,” she said. “But yep, glad to have imparted some Carmilla Karnstein wisdom unto you.”

I looked at her, an amused smirk tugging the corners of my mouth.

Carmilla’s brow quirked. “What’s that little smirk on your face, cutie?”

“Do you always talk like this? Because I swear I never saw you as the talker type, Carmilla.”

“No. Not really. Just with you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re interesting.”

“You’re the first person who’s told me that.”

“The rest must be blind,” she simply said.

Her flirty words filled the heartbeat between us with a coiling, tensing heat. My eyes locked with hers, and I opened my mouth, certain I’d have a witty reply, as always.

None.

“Queen Bro! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” A lively Kirsch—very far from the zombie version of him I witnessed just last night—hurried over to us. “I tried calling your phone but I couldn’t get through.”

“Yeah, sorry. Turned it off,” Carmilla said. “What’s up, beefcake?”

“I need to tell you something really important. Can you come with me for a sec?” Kirsch said, then he turned to me and beamed. “Hi, Little Nerd Hottie!”

I gave a little wave and forced a smile in response. Crap. Why did this giant puppy have to ruin my moment with Carmilla?

Kirsch must have noticed my weird smile as he suddenly turned awkward.

As Kirsch quickly grabbed the dark-haired girl’s hands and pulled her up, Carmilla turned to me with an apologetic smile.

Feeling a weird twist in my tummy, I watched as Kirsch put his arm around Carmilla’s shoulders and they walked together through the crunchy leaf litter toward the International Centre building. Why is it that seeing the tall Zeta guy annoys me to no end when he’s actually one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met?

I faced the table, dropped my head and muttered, “Just shoot me now.”

Grabbing my pen and nibbling on the end of it, I looked again at the pages of my open notebook in front of me. Blank. All pearly white. The whiteness of the sheets mocking me. I glared at it with such intensity that I wouldn’t be surprised if it spontaneously combusted into ashes.

Yep, maybe that way it would be better than the rest of the wrinkled ones laying in my room trash bin and floor.

After a long while of uselessness, I sighed, tossing my pen aside, giving up. I had a deadline and made a timeline for myself but sitting here and hating the sheets wouldn’t take me anywhere.

I stood up to head for the inside of the cafeteria. I needed ice cream. Normally that was enough to get me in the mood.

After getting a mini cup of vanilla ice cream, I walked out of the cafeteria and back to my spot on the outdoor bench to finally begin brainstorming for my academic paper.

I was just beginning to enjoy drawing circles around related topics with my yellow highlighter pen when I saw them again. I stopped writing.

Not far away, Carmilla stood, leaning against a wall, talking happily to Kirsch. I saw her eyes dart at me for a second but then she quickly turned her attention back to Kirsch and carried on talking. I tried to ignore the way my stomach twisted with something I might call jealousy, but I couldn’t stop my jaw from clenching. To pacify myself, I refocused on the girl instead.

Good Lord, Carmilla really had gorgeous hair, I noticed as I watched her. The ends fell just past her shoulders and I felt that old, familiar urge to dig my fingers into it and grab a handful. Today’s outfit consisted of a black leather vest with a stand up collar and a mouthwatering light grey crop top underneath, and a pair of super sexy leather pants. A pair of sunglasses was hooked into the neck of her sexy top.

Then I saw something that seriously made my chest hurt. Kirsch sweetly wrapped his arms around Carmilla, looking over the moon, and I just had to jerk my gaze away.

Crap, I should get back to work, I scolded myself. Just do anything to keep me from the girl who alternately drove me crazy and made me crazy with want and from the giant wimpy lad who was inadvertently tempting me to become a murderer.

“Take a deep breath, Laura,” someone suddenly said behind me. “I don’t think Kirsch is exactly going to steal her heart.”

 

* * *

 

“Take a deep breath, Laura,” a familiar voice sounded from behind me. “I don’t think Kirsch is exactly going to steal her heart.”

I looked over my shoulder and saw a smirking Perry, with a snickering LaFontaine trailing behind her. I smiled sheepishly, my face flushed.

I knew it would be a waste of time to lie to the redhead. Lola Perry just seemed omniscient. “Is it that obvious?” I asked.

Smirking, Perry plopped down beside me on the bench and put down her paper cup of coffee on the table. “Don’t worry, dear. Just like how I lied to Miss Strolz about not knowing who threw up all over her geraniums this morning, your secret’s safe with me.”

I sighed and groaned, “God, I’m utterly disgusted by how much I like her, guys, when all she’s been giving me is nothing but headaches from the get-go—Well, fine, she has given me a few sweet things, too, like last night she was throwing me some really nice compliments and decent pieces of advice, then this morning she apparently left cranberry juice in the kitchen for my hangover. And finally, she gave me glorious back rubs.”

“That’s really uncharacteristically sweet of her,” Perry said, gazing at Carmilla pensively. “But she’s obviously not in a relationship mode now. My advice is that you need to just let her be for a while.”

I sighed again. “I know. It just sucks to have all these feelings and you can’t do anything about them, you know. It’s maddening and freaking exhausting.”

“This is just too dramatic, L,” LaFontaine, who was sitting across Perry at our table, commented. “I wish Betty would hurry up with my crepe so I’d have entertainment treats while you spill some more.”

“I’m not spilling anything,” I mumbled, doodling random shapes on my notebook with the highlighter pen. “There is nothing left to spill. I like Carmilla and she’s not interested and never will be. End of story.”

“That’s weird. The Laura Hollis I know would have never said something as downbeat as that. But whatever,” LaFontaine said, shifting on the bench to cross their legs. “Anyway, I don’t think Carmilla’s into men,” the short-haired ginger added, and Perry responded with an agreeing nod.

My brow furrowed. “What makes you think so?”

LaFontaine shrugged. “I don’t know. Call it instinct, I guess.”

“Can you blame her?” Betty appeared at our table with a loaded tray. “Most of the men here at Silas are hopeless and repulsive. Wish I was a lesbian,” she said with a snort. “The girls are much better-looking than the guys.”

The ginger duo laughed at that while I stayed unsmiling, deep in thought.

“Hey, Laura  _Vomit_  Hollis. I got you a crepe as well,” Betty said in a sing-songy voice, and the red-haired pair cracked up again. She placed a plate of strawberry cream crepe in front of me and sat across me at the table. “Thought you might need something to cheer you up. You looked like someone just shat all over your head.”

And suddenly my attention was caught again by Carmilla who was now laughing at something that Kirsch said. Too bad she was wearing sunglasses now and that made it impossible for me to see her eyes and know where she’s really looking at. Then Kirsch stuffed both hands into the pockets of his jeans and flipped his hair to one side.  _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck._   _He’s even trying to look cute for Carmilla!_  Then Carmilla touched his arm, a 200-watt smile stretching across her pretty face.

That old demon jealousy took me by the throat _. That Brody Kirsch could bring that smile to her face!_

Betty reached out across the table for my hand and tugged at it to pull me out of my morbid thoughts. “Hey, Little L, you haven’t touched your crepe.”

“I’m not really hungry,” I mumbled.

Betty looked over her shoulder, following where my gaze had been. A teasing smirk formed on her lips. “Oh yeah, because I’m sure you’re feasting on the sight over there?” She indicated Carmilla with a lift of her chin. “How’s the Karnstein-ogling?” She wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully and my three friends teased by forming heart shapes with their hands again.

I let out a little laugh, in spite of me, and shifted on the bench. “Stop being silly, guys.”

LaFontaine grinned. “Why don’t you just go over there, grab her hand and tug her to the nearest restroom to get this pent up sexual tension over with?”

I reached across the table to give the short-haired ginger’s shoulder a light shove. “Shut up, LaF. I still haven’t forgiven you for those nasty shots you formulated.”

“I’m just joking,” LaFontaine said, laughing. “But your pathetic dreamy leering is making my heart hurt. Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

“Maybe not anytime soon,” Perry said as she sliced her crepe meticulously. “Right now, dealing with Carmilla is like diffusing a bomb. One wrong move could spell disaster. One day she’s fine—nice to everyone around the dorm, laughing and just being friendly, more together than I’ve seen her before, even though I know something’s bothering her inside. Then she just seems to explode, almost for no reason at all.”

Betty took a sip of her soda. “Hm. She’s probably only under so much stress right now that’s why she’s acting that way.”

Sitting forward and leaning my elbows on the table, I let out a sad sigh. “Yeah, well, there’s this mystery person who keeps on pestering her . . . She doesn’t really talk about it, but you can tell it’s tearing her apart.” I shook my head sadly, contemplatively. “But I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know what else to do but just be there for her . . . and maybe squeeze in some more shameless flirting here and there.”

My friends laughed at this, and LaFontaine shouted, “Now that's the Laura Hollis I know!”

“Well, just give her time, honey,” Perry advised, putting her hand on my shoulder assuringly, “time and patience.”

“I’ve got plenty of both of those,” I reflected a little sadly. “I think.”

Someone tugged playfully on a hank of my hair. “Hey, Laura! I heard about the epic Vomit Fest last night. Too bad I had to leave early. I was so—” My friends gave her a stare to which she responded with a sheepish smile. “Omigod, I’m so sorry. Am I interrupting some sort of intervention here?”

“We’re just discussing the Karnstein Dilemma,” Betty answered.

Natalie’s mouth formed an  _O_  as she went, “Oooooh.”

“We’re trying to figure out if Laura has a chance since the Arctic Ice Queen has the Great Wall of freaking China around her,” LaFontaine added.

“You know,” Natalie squeezed herself between me and Perry on the bench, “I really think Laura reminds her of someone she hates. I mean, do you guys remember the strange way Carmilla stared at Laura when they first met at the dorm lobby?”

“I swear I think she’s some supernatural being,” LaFontaine mumbled through a bite of crepe. “I wish we could help you figure her out, L.”

I sneaked a glance at Carmilla again. She now looked agitated. She was staring down at her iPhone like it was a twatty person. Maybe the caller was indeed a twatty person. The phone seemed to be ringing but she was ignoring it. After a few seconds, she finally pressed a button on the touch screen, then went back to chatting with Kirsch.

Soon her phone seemed to go off again, eliciting a grunt of annoyance from her. She stabbed a finger to the touch screen about six times.

I sighed, dipped my head, pushed a piece of fresh strawberry around on my plate with my fork, feeling dorky and disillusioned.

She might not be into me in that way. But I’d like to think so. Why I thought Carmilla was emotionally available and not straight was still a mystery. The best answer I could give was because I wanted her to be. All my views were filtered through my brain and therefore were twisted to suit my own desires. And where did this leave me now?

Perry wiped her mouth daintily with a napkin. “All we know is that Laura has an inexplicable effect on Carmilla,” she said, then turned to me. “Wasn’t it you told us she’s been ignoring you since last week? That must mean something, right?”

“Hmm . . .” LaFontaine drummed their fingers on their chin thoughtfully. “I can only think of two reasons. (A) She must be freaking out because she’s feeling some kind of attraction to you. Or (B) she must be freaking out because you’re just really creepy as fuck with all your aggressive flirting.”

I looked down, absently poking another strawberry piece with the fork. “I’m leaning towards B. Now that I really think of it, it’s not Carmilla’s fault we had some weird vibes going on between us. I was being a bit pushy and forward and just generally making an idiot out of myself when I’m around her. I had probably scared her off. And she was probably just being blatant about being straight and not interested.” Standing up, I took off my cardigan and fixed my white spaghetti strap crop top I had been hiding underneath then sat back down.

Suddenly, Betty let out a chuckle. “Well, she seems pretty interested in you now.”

I rolled my eyes at the blonde. “You’re delusional, Betty,” I said with a snort, grabbing my fork again. “No chance. Carmilla’s totally out of my league. And I’m sure—”

Natalie nudged me with her knee. “Betty’s right. Carmilla is staring.”

LaFontaine grinned. “It must be the top. You should wear stuff like that more often, L, if you seriously want to get her attention.” And Betty slapped the short-haired ginger a high-five in agreement.

“No.” I stabbed my fork into the crepe, ducking my head and pretending to be busy eating. “If this is your twisted definition of making fun of me, guys, then I must say—”

Betty suddenly seized my free hand and shook it. “Laura, she’s seriously checking you out. Go look,” she urged. “I’m not kidding—”

My face grew warm as I felt a flutter in my stomach. “Betty, shut up,” I ground out, still hiding myself. “I don’t want to. It’s awkward enough that all of you are looking at her. She might think we’re creepsters.”

The tall blonde shook my hand again. “I swear, Laura. Go see for yourself—” She abruptly threw her hands up, frowning. “Oh, hell no! Karnstein’s leaving now.”

“Good.” I finally lifted my head and saw the raven-haired girl’s retreating figure.

Betty turned to face me again, her face serious. “Trust me. I saw it, L. Karnstein looked so thirsty. She even quickly flipped her sunnies up just to take a good look at you. She’s so into you.”

“You think so?”

“Honey, if I were gay, I’d do a lot more than you think.” Betty shot one last look over her shoulder. “Mmm.” Her eyes squinted as if she was liking what she was seeing.

Chuckling, I gave my friend a shove on the shoulder. “Get a hold of yourself, Spielsdorf.”

“Fantasies are harmless, Laura, I’m telling you,” Betty told me. “And if Carmilla had been looking at me that way she was looking at you, I’d have been a puddle of hormones at her feet.”

I combated the jitters in my stomach with a brisk gulp of autumn air. “I don’t melt easily.”

Right.

 

* * *

 

“Carmilla!” I called, catching my breath. The raven-haired girl was in front of the university clock tower, sitting on a stone bench next to a statue and staring off into space quietly that Friday afternoon. I jogged over to her and saw her flinch a little. “Good God, you’re a fast runner. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“And now you’ve found me,” Carmilla said cheerlessly. “Nice day at uni, huh?”

“The best.” I sat down next to her, panting some more. “I can’t believe how Professor Cochrane treated you in class earlier. It’s just freaking unfair,” I told her. “That was epic, though—how you went all-in with the rousing rant for the ages and called him out on his bullcrap before storming out of the room. You deserve a cookie.”

I offered the raven-haired girl a chocolate chip cookie but she turned it down so I put the cookie back into the pocket of my bag.

She snorted. “It was nothing.”

“Oh, you have no idea how your very few vicious words put him in his place,” I said, chuckling a bit. “You may be more helpful than you give yourself credit for, Carm. Professor Cochrane went quiet after your little walk-out drama and we both know that’s absolute heaven for everyone.”

Carmilla didn’t respond; she just shifted on the bench, the dried maple leaves crunching under her leather boots.

“So, what happened? What made you go off like that?” I asked.

“And what made you run after me?” she threw back a question.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” I replied.

Carmilla frowned at this as she tinkered with her bottle of Gatorade. “Laura . . . you shouldn’t have followed. It’s rude enough that one of us walked out of his class.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I told her, causing her to look at me again. “I know you want to be left alone, Carmilla. But you don’t have to fight your battles on your own.”

Carmilla just stared at me with slightly lifted eyebrows.

I let out a soft chuckle before continuing, “Oh God, sorry. That sounded like a cheesy love song,” I said, cringing a bit. “Anyway, did you really think that your avoidance wasn’t totally and painfully obvious? I was acutely aware that the thought of being near to people did not exactly fill you with anticipation.”

“Then why do you put yourself through this?” the raven-haired girl asked quietly.

“Good question, Carmilla. When I figure out the answer, I’ll add the appropriate poetic metaphor for it to my lists.”

Carmilla didn’t answer. She was busy watching the way a brightly coloured leaf skittered on the ground.

I clapped my hands together. “’Right, then. Since you seem content with not talking, I’m going to start a staring contest with this statue beside me. Maybe I’ll get more interaction from this old man.” I gave the statue’s arm soft pats. “Or I could busy myself with something and pretend you’re not here as well.” I pulled out a retractable ballpoint pen and a notebook from my bag and turned it to a page with some already-scribbled notes:  ** _Laura’s Notes to Self_** —a checklist of the things I plan to do that I had started writing last night.

I re-read the opening line in my head whilst pensively tapping the pen against my chin.

**_I only have two more years here in Silas U. So how do I make my stay worthwhile? Here’s my plan:_ **

I inked in an additional line at the end of the list.  ** _Hunt down a major European drug syndicate_** , I wrote and sniggered to myself, prompting the raven-haired girl to glance at me with an intrigued look on her face. After fixing my double-braided ponytail, I went on to write the next item.

 ** _Hot make-outs_** , I ducked my head and covered the page with my other hand as I jotted down so that Carmilla wouldn’t be able to see and continued scribbling,  ** _(with Carmilla Karnstein, preferably) in all places unimaginable. ‘Cept inside a Ferris wheel car._**  Licking my lips, I then drew a tick box.

I suddenly felt heat envelop my entire body as I remembered something. God, earlier during German class, the air-conditioning crapped out in the classroom. Everybody was cranky and sweating. Carmilla took off her vintage black leather bomber jacket, tossed it onto her chair, and my voice had stuck in my throat as soon as I got a glimpse of her slightly see-through black top. The sudden desire I’d had to touch her bare skin was almost overwhelming.

Another thought came to mind.

 ** _Work on your research paper_** , I wrote down.  ** _No dawdling. No distractions._**

As if she had read my mind, Carmilla asked all of a sudden, “How’s your paper going?”

After scribbling down a couple more entries quickly, I pressed the button of the pen so that the ballpoint sinks back into the frame and closed the notebook on my lap. “It’s going well. I think,” I answered with a tiny smile. “Thanks to your brilliant comments, I’m now halfway through the introduction.”

The raven-haired girl finally smiled. “Good.” She opened her bottle of Gatorade and took a sip.

“Carmilla, what went on today?” I ventured for a talk again. “I know something or someone made you upset.”

Carmilla scoffed. “Laura, you don’t have to listen to my problems. They would bore you.”

“Try me,” I said softly.

“It was my whore of an ex-best friend,” the raven-haired girl finally answered, cryptically. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, I can’t really process much because you’ve only given me crumbs,” I said. “But since you called her a ‘whore’, it seems that she had horribly betrayed you in some way. So what I can tell you is that . . . you should forget about this super awful person if she had broken your trust. Find a new loyal best friend. Or an amazing, adorkable partner-in-crime. Which by the way, I am. It’s my shining personality, you see.”

Carmilla snorted a chuckle and rolled her eyes flippantly. “You must be so proud, cutie.”

I smiled smugly. “Well, appreciating yourself is an important part of life.”

“There’s a fine line between ‘appreciating yourself’ and ‘thinking you’re a goddess’, cupcake.”

I straightened up on the bench and turned so that I was completely facing the raven-haired girl. “You, Carmilla Karnstein, are full of angst and animosity and skepticism,” I told her quite frankly. “Can’t you just be delighted that there’s an amazing person who is willing to volunteer as your partner-in-crime, who is willing to listen to you and makes an effort to reach out even when she feels blatantly ignored?”

Carmilla looked at me and stared on. Then she bit her lip and shook her head. “Is this a cue for me to give you a big grateful hug?”

I gave a shrug. “Well, if you want to.”

“Well, I don’t,” she said.

Smirking, I crossed my legs. “Okay, then. Let’s just continue with our conversation,” I said, and instinctively began pen-clicking. “How exactly is your friend a ‘whore’?”

“What are you writing, anyway?” Carmilla asked, glancing at the notebook on my lap.

“Why are you changing the subject?”

The raven-haired girl gave me the stare which prompted me to seriously answer, “It’s my life’s bucket list.”

Carmilla snorted cynically. “Why bother, princess? You won’t get to accomplish all of them anyway.”

“It’s not about that,” I said. “The point is to make you realise that although your life’s list will never be completed, you’ll understand the importance of keeping your priorities straight. Forget the irrelevant distractions that we allow to take up too much of our valuable and finite time that we have in this one lifetime.”

“Well, I find lists pointless and just plain stupid,” Carmilla said. “Please, just for your own sake, cupcake, isn’t life hard enough for you to make up your own rules to mess with yourself, invent restrictions for yourself? You don’t need to fabricate rules all the damn time, Laura.”

I smiled at the raven-haired girl benignly. “I’m not gonna argue with you today. I want to stay in a good mood. So . . . you want to go check out this new coffee shop Café Sheridan downtown? I heard the red velvet cupcakes there are orgasmic.” Then I raised a finger when Carmilla’s brows quirked. “And before you get any ideas, this is just a friendly offer, okay? So you in?”

“Can’t,” she answered, and the school bell chimed.

I frowned. “Why not?”

“You’re a distraction,” Carmilla replied, getting up, as I started to laugh. “I have to steer clear of irrelevant distractions. Didn’t you just say that?” She slung her bag over her shoulder and gave a small nod of goodbye. “I’ve got to go, cutie. I still have Politics class. Bye.”

As she walked away, I saw her get busy typing on her phone. She looked over her shoulder and pointed at the mobile phone in her hand, motioning for me to check out mine.

Without blinking, I took my phone out of my pocket and it buzzed. I flipped it open, opened her message, and a giggle escaped my lips right away.

**_Totally kidding. Meet me at Café Sheridan. 6pm._ **

Then another text.

 ** _PS: I like what you did to your hair today, cutie._  ** **;)**

I blushed. And it’s insane how this girl can make me blush horribly easy. I texted back, smiling to myself.

**_You just love giving me headaches, don’t you?_ **

I saw her chuckle at her phone screen before typing away on it. My phone buzzed again and I opened the message.

 ** _I believe it’s my life’s purpose._**   **  
**

Still giggling and shaking my head in amusement, I watched as Carmilla trotted away. Then I pressed the plunger of my pen, opened my notebook again, and polished the checklist with one last entry:

**_And perhaps make Carmilla Karnstein fall madly in love with me._ **

I snapped my notebook shut, a wicked and hopeful grin on my face.

Yep, fantasies are harmless.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. Thanks! xx
> 
>  
> 
> **MY ALTER LIFE**
> 
> Instagram: **[dannygirl06](http://instagram.com/dannygirl06)**  
>  Tumblr: **[The LegenDanny Diaries](http://thelegendannydiaries.tumblr.com)**


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